Blame it on the Alcohol Baby
by November Envy
Summary: Wincest short fic. One night, one to many drinks, the same old story with one big ol' mistake in store. If I get enough good feedback and the demands there I might just continue on with this story but for the mean time this is pretty much PWP. Sorry for any bad spelling my beta abandoned me so I had to edit it myself and I'm bad with that stuff. But enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

_'Blame it on th alcohol  
Blame it on th alochol_

_Blame it on the vodka_  
_Blame it on the henny_  
_Blame it on the blue top_  
_Got you feeling dizzy'_

_Blame it (On the Alcohol) by Jamie Foxx_

Dean groaned as he and Sam fell through the motel room door, drunken and glued to each other, kissing desperately.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this drunk. The world had become fuzzy at best, and it seemed to hitch, jump a scene and then re-start, sending his mind whirling. He wasn't sure how or even when Sam had shut the door and began predatory stalking him, forcing Dean backwards with each step.

Sam could smell the alcohol on his own breath, and somewhere in his overly intoxicated brain an alarm bell sounded, warning him just how treacherous this new territory was. But as Sam watched the back of Dean's bowed legs make contact with the bed frame, he couldn't help but close the gap between them and worship his brother's neck with his lips and lathering tongue before he firmly raised a hand to Dean's shoulder and pushed him down to the hard matrass below, right and wrong be damned.

Dean's deep green eyes darkened with desire as his back made contact with the time worn, dirt ridden motel matrass, his entire being watching on wantonly as Sam stood over him. Slowly, Sam lowered himself over Dean, placing his hands on either side of Dean's head, but not touching quiet him, just pinning his older brother to the spot beneath him. Growing impatient Dean growled loudly, moving like a lighting bolt as he sprang up to cup Sam's cheeks and crush him into a demanding kiss. Sam made a noise of surprise as the room span with the sudden movement, but it soon turned to pleasure when Dean's tongue flicked seductively over his lower lip. No willpower in his booze happy buzzing body left to deny his older brother, he gave in willingly. Allowing Dean to search out his mouth, taste and sear his ownership in to every nock and cranny. For a few passionate minutes all there was to be heard was the sounds of their lips meeting and their tongues fighting for dominance until Sam finally pulled back, his hazel eyes almost black with lust. His pupils where blown wide and his lips gleamed with their wet mingled saliva.

"You're fuckin' gorgeous." He muttered huskily, slurring the worlds into the plump lips beneath his.

Dean blinked twice in a fabled attempted to see past the swimming beer goggle vision that had the world blurring out of focus. His brother's face was whirling above him; his sharp, strong facial futures blending and meshing together no matter how hard Dean tried too squint them back to normal. Dean knew he was drunk, (smashed as Lindsay Lohan on a bender) registered it somewhere, but all he wanted to do was see past this swamping dizziness so he could take in his brother's beauty in this moment. A moment he had been waiting for years, to soak it all in, too remember it clearly.

Sam kissed away the confused frown that was tainting the elder's forehead.

"'Wat's 'rong?" Sam asked in a flurry of slurring words. Dean's frown deepened.

"N-nothing, I just-" Dean shook his head, and sighed, giving in on any attempt to see past the haze, "no, nothing."

Sam smiled seductively as he found his way back to Dean's neck, biting and sucking hard enough to draw blood. Dean's worries and doubts instantly flew to the back of his mind as his arched of the bed and into Sam's body above in pleasure. Their hands roamed each others musclier bodies, memorizing the lines and curves. Sam broke away from Dean's freckled neck so that he could rid himself and his brother of their tee-shirts. Before Sam could even lower himself back down Dean had raised himself up on his elbows and taken a pink dusky nipple into his mouth. And as if Sam wasn't hard enough already any remaining blood in his system fled south as his big brother lathered the hard nub with his pliant tongue. Moaning loudly, Sam wrapped Dean's shoulders in his long arms and pulled Dean closer, pushing his nose into the short hair at the top or Dean's head and tried to regain control of his breathing. With a loud, slick sounding pop Dean pulled back and stared up into Sam's eyes.

"I want you." Dean hissed, bumping his nose against Sam's. Sam gulped; his attempts to regain his breath all but flew out the window in that moment, he wasn't sure if it was Dean or the copious amounts of alcohol that had his heart all but racing and ready to bound out of his chest.

"Fuck, don't say things like that." Sam whispered as he involuntary ground himself against Dean's hips.

"Why?" Dean asked, scared that Sam was going to back out now.

"Coz if my dick gets any harder I'll be cuttin' steel."

Dean's fears recessed and he smirked widely. "Want you to fuck me, Sammy." He muttered seductively as he drunkenly swang his arm around Sam's neck. He barely even noticed his surprise at his own words. All the times and ways he had imagined this absurd situation unfolding he never had thought it would be him willing to take bottom. He could hear a sober part of his brain reminding him all the reasons he should not bottom, but in this drunken state his only goal was to get his baby brother as hard as possible, and his rational mind could get fucked. His words where rewarded with a needy whine from Sam. Dean was so lost in Sam's little keening sounds that he didn't notice the thumb at the back of Sam's neck had began rubbing small circles into Sam's skin.

"I wan' you ta fuck me s'hard I feel it for weeks" Dean slurred, eyes heavy with lust and intoxication. Dean kissed his brother soppily, coxing him closer.

"Really?" Sam asked against his lips.

"Really." Dean confirmed. "Please, need you."

"De," Sam whined, rutting his hips against Dean's, the fabric in-between them providing friction but not enough satisfaction. Sam bit his lip as he began to struggle with Dean's jeans button. Dean did his best not to laugh at Sam's sloppy fingers struggling with the simple task. He smiled briefly to himself, before he decided to give him a hand. With their joint efforts they managed to get both their pants and boxers off. When their bodies met for the first time with nothing to interfere, they both trust upwards into each other, rolling their hips together. From that simple act sweat was already gathering on Sam's forehead. Panting as he moved against Dean he spoke softy.

"You sure?" Sam asked, he preyed to god Dean wouldn't say no, if he did Sam didn't know how he was going to stop himself for taking him anyway, his inebriated state trowing out all reasonable thoughts, boiling his mind's eye down to one thing: must fuck Dean.

Dean tugged Sam closer, grunting as he felt his big brother protection instincts stolen away by Sam. He should be the one asking that, not Sammy.

"Are you?" Dean asked his green eyes boring into Sam's. Sam's eyes gleamed as he took that as permission to continue.

"Very sure." he answered as he kissed him again, this time his hand wondering down to Dean's hip, resting there for a moment before continuing on. When he reached Dean's tight hole he circle it once. Staring into Dean's green glossy eyes, he licked his lips, exiling a groan for Dean. Sam lifted his hand back up and pressed his fingers to Dean's lips. Dean smiled knowingly before he left a finger slip into his warm mouth. Sam swallowed tightly as he watched Dean suck and lick at his finger, feeling his tongue encircle his digit, smoothing it with saliva and treating it like it was something completely different. Sam added a second, and then a third. When he felt his fingers were adequately slickened he pulled back from Dean's willing mouth. Dean made a small sound of protest, convinced that nothing could taste better than Sam's skin, his mouth chased Sam fingers for a moment before he lay back, reminding himself something better was to come.

Sam lowered himself so that his head could rest next to Dean's navel on that pale stomach. He glanced up, asking for permission to go ahead with his eyes. Dean blinked once, bitting his lip before he nodded firmly. Slowly, so as not to hurt Dean, he pressed against the muscle, his finger slid in, tight walls surrounded it and Sam thought to himself if Dean was this tight with just one finger then he had no clue how he was going to fit his cock up there.

"Relax," he muttered, placing a sloppy open mouth kiss to Dean's skin. Dean sucked in a breath and nodded, trying his best to oblige. It didn't really hurt; it was more of a dull throb that was revoked by the haze of alcohol still circulating in Dean's system. Dean's head was becoming dizzier. The effects of foreplay added too his smashed state, so much so he didn't even notice when Sam slipped in a second finger. It began to feel good as Sam stretched him out and his body adjusted to the change. Sam added the final finger, biting his lip as he did so, Dean was so tight, it was driving Sam slowly insane as each second that ticked by. The need to be inside his brother became stronger and stronger, to feel that tightness wrapped around something entirely different. Dean was moaning and grunting freely now, rocking himself onto Sam's fingers, his cock drizzling pre-come on his stomach just below his navel. Dean watched as Sam eyed it off hungrily, Sam's eyes met Dean's and they kept eye contact as Sam's tongue flickered out to lap up the milky substance. Dean's breath hitched.

"I-Iam ready. Now." Dean sputtered desperately.

Sam removed his fingers and crawled up Dean's body so that their foreheads where pressed together as he slowly guided himself to Dean's hole. Gently he pressed against it and moaned as it gave way under the pressure, slipping the tip of his dick into Dean; Dean's walls hugged it tightly, the pure heat of it all making his head spin. Sam bit his lip and studied Dean's face for any signs of pain, but only big green eyes stared back at him, willing him for more. Sam continued and soon he bottomed out, his balls pressed against the curve of Dean's arse. Dean's eyes watered and he bit his lip so that he wouldn't make a sound of pain. Sweat gathered on Sam's forehead again at the effort he was putting in not to move when ever other cell in his body screamed at him to just go. He tried to control his breathing again and pull himself into order.

"Ok, move." Dean demanded after a few seconds, and Sam had never been more relived in his life. He began to slowly trust, his eyes rolling in delight.

"More," Dean hissed. "Faster."

"Pushy," Sam teased before obliging, picking up his pace. Dean run his hand over Sam's back, holding and pulling him in as close as possible, revelling in the feel of their bodies sliding together and the increasing pleasure radiation through his body, the painful stretch of his channel soon merged into a undistributed bliss.

Sam couldn't believe how tight Dean was; it was mind bottling and was turning each muscle in his body into oozing ecstasy, he had to grip onto Dean's shoulder just to keep trusting. He run his over sized hands over Dean's sides, stroking his calloused skin, smashing their lips together and allowing their tongues to do battle.

Dean broke the kiss as he ached over the bed, moaning so loudly the people in the room over banged against the wall, but Dean hardly heard them as his eyes fluttered and the sound of his blood drumming in his veins filled his ears.

"Bullseye." Sam's muttered into Dean's ear, bitting down on his brother's ear lobe as he hit his prostate again.

"S-shut up," Dean moaned back, and slap Sam's shoulder softly, scolding him for his boasting. Sam chucked, and pressed Dean into the mattress as he picked up the passé yet again, being sure to rub against that sweet spot with every trust. Soon Dean was completely incoherent and 100% sure that he would come without having even been touched. But as if Sam had read his mind he reached down and began to stroke Dean, testing the head with the nail of his thumb. And that was it, Dean's breath hitched so violently that his entire chest jolted and his body went into overdrive, every part of him seemed to seize, clench and tightened as he arched of the bed one last time and into Sam's hand, his cock sprouting thick spurts of come all over Sam's hand and Dean's chest. Dean was so far gone that he didn't hear himself moan his brothers name.

Sam closed his eyes, and behind the darkness of his eyelids white light exploded, Dean clenching so tightly around him that Sam could hardly even continue plunging into him, but it didn't stop him trying to get as deep into Dean as was capable. His forehead rested against Dean's as he blew his load, the warmth of it surrounded his cock and the stretched walls that held it. With a sigh his entire body went flaccid, and he let himself melt into Dean beneath him, too exhorted to even pull out as his dick became limp.

"Sam-" Dean yawned. Sam didn't bother to respond. "Sam- ya crushing me." Dean hissed as his eyes began too droop shut. Sam titled his head to glance down at their conjoined bodies; he muttered a muffled apology and rolled to the side, pulling out of Dean's now come slicked entrance.

Dean opened one eye, taking in the still booze hazy sight of his brother. Sam was already half asleep, his back facing Dean. Dean's drunken mind muttered to him that Sam and his warmth was too far away, so Dean rolled over and pulled Sam into his chest, his arm wrapped around Sam's hip and his head was pillowed by Sam's long neck. Dean kissed Sam's shoulder tenderly.

"Night, baby boy." He mumbled in an alcoholic and orgasm fuel stupor. Before long he too was lost to the world, deep in a sound sleep.


	2. When Tomorrow Comes

After I named this chapter the irony of this song struck me, and I do love a good irony so I just had to quote it.

_ 'If tomorrow never comes_  
_Will she know how much I loved her_  
_Did I try in every way to show her every day_  
_That she's my only one_  
_And if my time on earth were through_  
_And she must face this world without me_  
_Is the love I gave her in the past_  
_Gonna be enough to last_  
_If tomorrow never comes' _

'If Tomorrow Never Comes'

By Ronan Keating

* * *

The first thing Sam was aware of was how incredibly painful the bright light was. Did he leave the lamp on? Why hadn't Dean turned the godforsaken thing off? But before Sam could roll over and send the offending object flying across the room and hopefully smash it into a billion shattering pieces his head lurched painfully his brain pounding dreadfully against his skill.

"Agh!" Sam moaned and gripped his forehead tightly with both hands, trying to squeeze all the pain out. He was so hung. He could taste the stale flavour of far too much alcohol for one night on his tongue and the nasty acid tang of vial in his mouth. His empty stomach reeled in complaint of its abuse. Everything bloody hurt, ached in unison, as if to send him a general fuck you message from every organ in his body. Sam hadn't been this hangover since his first binge when he was fourteen and Dean and Dad had left him in the motel room of the week while they chased some hunt and what every monster was involved, alone with a fridge full of beer, which had been a big mistake. Sam wasn't a big drinker but he wasn't foreign the substance either, so he knew to be in this much pain he must of downed a petrol tanker of whisky. Which really was quiet a spectacle and if he wasn't in so much fucking pain he might have stopped to be proud of his effort. But at that moment his stomach had finally had enough and began to send his spinning with the effort of keep it down in time to get to the bathroom. He sprang forward off the bed, barely registering the deep grown that came from something or someone on the bed or the flicker of naked skin in the edges of his vision.

Dean work up to the mattress shifting drastically and a large amount of weight being lifted from it. Pain flared through his senses and he instantly knew he had drunk himself into oblivion,_ again_. The second thing he noticed was that there was something on his stomach that was cold and sticky and drying against his skin. It was come. Gross, discussing, if he had to wank of before he fell asleep why hadn't he had half the brains to at least clean himself of afterwards? The third thing that his senses singled out was the sound of someone reaching loudly. He instantly sat up only to regret it straight away, a blistering pain shot up his spin from his arse and Dean yelped with the painful stretching felling, almost like he had been ripped open from the arse up.

"Fuck," He cursed, clenching his teeth and trying catching his breath. He rubbed a palm to his head and pushed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes which felt like gritty rocks in their sockets.

"Sammy!" He yelled, desperate for a glass of water. But all he got in reply was a half hearted grunt and the sound of more retching followed miserable moaning.

"Sam why the FUCK does my arse hurt!" he tried again.

"Shut up!" Sam's voice moaned back. "My head."

Dean tried to get out of bed but ended up tangled in the white linen sheet and fell straight out of the bed and onto the hard cold floor with a deafening thud. Pain shot flung into his left hip.

"Motherfucker!" He cried, slamming a fist into the floor, only serving to add to his hurting. He struggled to get up and disentangle himself from the dammed sheet. When he finally did escape he managed to observe that he was completely naked. He glanced around the room, his eyes throbbing in complaint, he realized the bright light fluttering around the edges of the curtains was burning his eyeballs. He blinked passed it and saw that there was clothing scattered all about the motel room, somewhere in-between all the throbbing happening in his skull and the pain that was sizzling his eyes he managed to recognize that some of the clothing wasn't his but Sam's. He frowned wondering why Sam's clothes would be spewed messily over the floor. Sam would have a heart attack, his inner girly neat freak would flip, and Dean would have to listen to it and that would not do. Sam would probably find someway to blame him. Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face again. Slowly and painfully he bent over and grabbed his boxers from the ground and gradually slid them on, his arse burning in protest. With his underwear in place he glanced over into the bathroom, the door was open and he could just see Sam's long legs. He seemed to be kneeling, his bear feet reviling his cringing toes which seemed to convulse in time with the retching sounds. From where he stood Dean could tell that Sam was in the nude as well, his round arse checks just showing on the edge of the door frame. Dean cringed at the sight but walked towards him anyway, he had to check Sam was ok, even if he didn't want his eyes to meet with that sight.

"Hey buddy." He cooed like he used to when Sam was a little boy, when he was sick or scared.

"You ok?" He asked as he entered into cramped, far too small bathroom.

Sam's head lay against the white porcelain; his normally caramel skin flushed a pale white and his lips cracked and dry. In reply Sam shook his head; brown bangs sent flying around until they resettled in his eyes.

"Light weight." Dean scoffed. Sam lifted his head slightly to glare at his brother and raise his rude finger. Dean chuckled.

"Ok, alright. No need to crack the shits. I'll get us some water." He turned and went to find some glasses and fill them with water, on his way back he snatched up Sam's boxers.

"Here." He said as he tosses them at Sam's face, almost landing them in the toilet. Sam glared again before tugging them on, his face turning green as he did.

"Oh god," He muttered before empty more vomit into the toilet. Dean grimaced, he could take gallons of blood spilling out everywhere but the sound of vomit leaving someone was the most discussing sound in the world. After a few moments Sam's retching came to an end and he groaned pitifully.

"Here," Dean said forcefully, shoving a glass of water at his brother. Sam stared at the cup like it was the elixir of life and attempted to smile at Dean.

"Thanks," He muttered, sounding exhorted. Dean lent against the doorframe, sipping his own water as he watched Sam take long grateful gulps.

"Feel better?" Dean asked and Sam nodded dutifully.

"'Kay, I'm just gonna go get some breakfa-" Dean stopped abruptly as he turned and noticed that one bed in the room was still maid.

"Hey Sammy, did you make your bed by any chance?" Dean whispered fearfully, his brain almost making a _click_ing sound as the pieces snapped into place.

"Uh," Sam muttered as he rubbed his forehead. "No, why?"

"I-" Dean stuttered. "I've-"

"You what, Dean?" Sam asked annoyance clear in his overly hangover fucked voice.

"I got to go," Dean said, leaving Sam in the bathroom, in search of his jeans and the keys to the car.

"Oh, no you bloody don't. Get back here and tell me what's up." Sam demanded, some of his lost energy returning with his irritation.

"I got to get out of here." Dean insisted, mostly to himself as he pulled his dirty top over his head.

"Dean!" Sam hissed.

"You want some hash browns? Shaker salad? There's a McDonalds down the road I saw it on the way-"

"DEAN!" Sam yelled and instantly regretted it, grunting and grasping his pounding head, swaying from side to side. He took a long, deep breath and continued.

" .Now." He gritted out.

Dean finally found his jeans and tugged them on as fast as he could with his blistering headache and his arse sore, throbbing.

"I'll be back." He said as he gapped his keys from his pocket and fled toward the door.

"Fuck you, Dean!" Sam cried as the door slammed shut behind his brother form.

"Fuck you." He whispered to the empty room, loneliness bubbling up in his stomach. He felt so damn sick, and Dean had abandoned him just like that with no explanation other than 'food'. He better at least return with some God damn aspirin.

Dean drove around of an hour before he made good of his word and actually bought any food. He refused to believe what his brain was telling him made sense. All the logic in the world wouldn't make Dean believe it. He had just ordered and payed for the food at the first window of the drive in and was heading toward the second one when I deep voice sounded out.

"Dean,"

"Fuck!" Dean cried and slammed on the breaks, almost coursing the car behind him to ram up the Impala's behind. The loud sound of a horn honking was his thank you form the drive behind.

"God damn it Cas!" Dean yelled angrily as he turned to face the innocent face of the angel.

"What the hell was that?"

"Was what?" Cas asked with a confused expression. "You mean the loud sound? I assume it was a car horn. It seems the drive behind you has found you to be a less than pleasant driver. I am told that is why horns are used."

Dean hissed irritably as his foot let up on the brake and they began to roll forward to the next window.

"That's not what I meant." He grunted.

"Oh." Was all Cas offered in return.  
"Why are you here?" Dean sighed heavily.  
"I know what happened between you and Sam last night." Cas said pleasantly as if he was commenting on the weather instead of incest and Dean's personal sex life.

"Of coarse you do." Dean growled; hitting his head against the steering wheel in the hope that self harm might wake him from this nightmare.

"Yes." Cas replied in the awkward silence that followed, shifting around in his seat. Dean gaped at him lividly, looking like there was nothing else on earth that would give him more joy than to see Cas implode right at moment and paint the inside of the Impala red with his blood. Cas offered him a small smile to lighten the situation.

"Shit, you fucking angels have zero tacked."

Cas looked highly unconfutable as he diverted his eyes to anywhere but Dean.

"Well, are you going to tell me why you're here?" Dean commanded.

"Yes!" Cas said, his face brightening up, overly pleased to have the conversion moving on.

"We know what happened between you and Sam last night." Cas said. Dean flushed a hot red and tried to hide his face with the shame of it.

"And I am here to tell you that your new- er- relationship must not interfere with our work against the forces of hell."

Dean's head shoot up. "Excuse me?" He hissed dangerously, but Cas seemed not to notice.

"I said-"

"I heard what you said." Dean snarled. "Relationship! Who the hell do you think you are! There is no relationship, he is my brother!"

"We just thought that after last night-" Cas squeaked, only to be interrupted by Dean's continued yelling.

"You just thought! You just thought you'd drop into to tell me you're alright with me letting my brother fuck me? You just thought you'd drop in to condone incest as long as it didn't get in the way of our work! Don't know if you noticed but incest is sin numero uno!" Dean's rage froze as he finished screaming, glanced up and saw a young girl; her long auburn hair tied up in a cascading ponytail that she had looped through the opening at the back of her black McDonalds cap. Her mouth was agape and her brown eyes where wide with astonishment. Dean cringed; she had obviously heard his entire out burst, the bag of food hang limply in her hand. Cas smiled a ten mile wide grin at her.

"Oh, food! What you order Dean? I bet Sam's starving."

"Uh-" The girl stumbled, obviously trying to recover. "One b-bacon cheese b-burger, large fries and-d a shaker salad?"

"Thank you!" Cas said energetically as he took the bag from her hand.

"And the d-drinks." She offered weakly, shoving the cardboard drink holder with coke and fresh orange juice into Cas' open arms.

"Thank you." Cas repeated. "And you have a good day now. God bless you."

The girls face twitched and she slammed the window shut, rushing off towards a fellow employee and paint toward the Impala.

"Wasn't she pleasant?" Cas commented. It was Dean's turn to have his face spasm. He reached over and opened the glove compartment, fishing out an elongated silver blade. He gripped the blade tight before plunging it into Cas' chest.

"Oh! What did you do that for!" Cas cried, grapping the handle of the blade and pulling it out, a rivulet of blood flowing out after it.

"Stress relief." Dean offered before he slammed his foot back on the accelerator, sending Cas' flying back into the seat as the speed away.

Sam sat on his still made bed, his laptop open as he researched their latest case, trying to make a connection between the victims while simultaneously researching the apocalypse in another open tab, trying to gear up for what ever the devil could bring their way. His head still pounded and every muscle in his body refused to cooperate, but he forced himself to continue, it was that or screaming at the top of his lungs so the whole world could hear how much he hated his brother. Suddenly the door burst open, keys rattling from their place in the key whole. Sam jumped for his gun on instinct but stopped himself before he had it in his hand, reminding himself that only Dean had a key.

"Well?" He demeaned as Dean strode through the door, McDonalds paper bag in hand.

"Well what?" Dean snapped back.

"_Well_," Sam hissed venomously, "would you like to explain what all _that_-" He gestured toward the open bathroom door, "was?"

"Not partially." Dean said as he lay the bag down on the small round table in the kitchenette. Sam attempted to stay calm by taking a deep breath in.

"Let me rephrase that." Sam growled treacherously. "Explain what happened just then."

"Let it go, man." Dean said, glancing quickly up into Sam's eye then back down.

"No, I don't think I will, _man_."

"Sam!"

"Dean!"

"Shut the fuck up would you."

"Tell me the truth!"

"You don't want to know."  
"I do so!"  
"Do not!"

"Do so!"

"Do not!"

"DO SO!"

"DO NOT  
"DO SO!"  
"DO SO!  
"DO NOT!"

"Huh!" Dean growled, japing a finger towards Sam. "So you agree." Sam's face turned red at being out smarted by the child like banter.

"No I don't, anyway, you said 'do so' be for I said 'do not', therefore you agreed first."  
"Don't pull that lawyer crap on me."

"Don't your Dean Winchester crap on me! Just tell me the bloody truth."

"Shut up and eat your salad." Dean sighed. Pulling the salad out of the bag and placing it on the table with the plastic knife and fork, orange juice beside it.

"Dean," Sam warned, crossing his arms across his chest.  
"Just eat, would ya?" Sam's face only grew angrier. Dean sighed, defeated. "Please?" He asked softly. Sam's face lamed slightly and eventually he unfolded his arms.

"Fine." Sam said, but made sure he didn't sound happy about it. He walked over to the table and sat down, opening his salad and shoving the green leaves into his mouth, he wouldn't admit it out loud for his bother to hear but he was starving. He glanced back up at Dean but something caught his eye on the way up.

"Dean?"

"What!" Dean snapped.

"Why is there blood on the bag?"

Dean froze, his eyebrows raised and he began to pick at a spot on the table.

"Dean?" Sam prodded.

"Don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do, there is blood on the bag." Sam said forcefully. Dean bit his lip.

"Fine." He sighed. "I stabbed Cas."

Sam gasped.

"Why!"

"For shits and giggles." Dean said with a roll of his eyes. Sam frowned deeply.

"No, really."

"Because he pissed me off, that's why."

"Is he ok?" Sam asked; worry etched into his face.

"Of course he's alright; he's an angle, Sam. It's like a scratch to them."

"Right." Sam said, clearly embarrassed. "So what'd he have to say?"

"Sorry?" Dean asked, trying to avoid the question.

"We'll he can't have popped in for tea and biscuits. What'd he want? Has he got a case? Because if he has tell him to stuff it, I've got some lead on this case and we need to help these people first before we deal any of the angels crap-"

"Sam, he hasn't got a case, just chill."

"Oh," Sam muttered forlornly before shoving some more food into his mouth. "Then what?"

"He just wanted to remind us not to be that long on this case, that's all." Dean lied smoothly. Sam looked rather doubtful and suspicious for a moment, he was all but hard wired to Dean and could smell a lie a mile away, but it sounded like something Cas would do so Sam let it slip. Dean breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Dean?"  
"Yeah Sammy?"

"You smell like week old come, go take a shower. Honestly, what the hell have you been rolling in?"

Dean smiled for the first time that day as his brother made a face that said it all.

"What you don't know won't kill ya." Dean replied as his walked past Sam, ruffling his sweet brown hair as he did.

"No, but the way you smell certainly could." Sam called after him.

Dean chuckled and flipped the bird back at Sam. There was no way he could tell Sam what happened last night, not ever. He could hardly bare to think of it himself, if Sam knew then he'd leave and take off forever. Like he'd tried to do with collage, and Dean just couldn't take that. He wouldn't take that, it'd kill him. He couldn't fight this war alone; he needed Sam like he needed oxygen to live. He needed his baby brother, always. And as disgusted as he was with himself, as much as he wished he had never let his lust get the better of him and as god dam much as he told himself it was filthy and discussing and he would never, ever allow it to happen again, he still couldn't help but smile to himself at the fuzzy, still half lost memory of Sam on top of him pressed against him. He couldn't have Sam leave, he needed him.

Sam feed himself another forkful of salad as he watched Dean walk away, he didn't know what on earth had his brother acting so bizarrely, but he wanted to find out as soon as possible. However for the he let himself enjoy the sight of Dean's arse in those jeans as he walked away. He felt all type of nasty for the surge of lust that flooded him at the sight. Dean would kill him if he knew what Sam felt for his brother. He would literally, mostly kill him. He'd call him a monster and put a bullet between his eyes, but even so, Sam couldn't stop himself. God he wished he could have Dean for just one night, one blissful night. He'd give his left arm for just for one minute of Dean. But that was wrong and he knew it. He needed Dean to stay, too keep loving Sam as Dean's baby brother. Sam needed to hear his gritty voice call him 'Sammy' and he needed to see Dean's breath taking eyes each morning when he woke up. So when Dean turned back around to shoot Sam his rude finger Sam instantly masked the desire on his face and instead smiled a false shit eating grin. Dean was still here, that was all that matter and that was how Sam intended to keep it.

* * *

Thanks for reading, don't forget to review. Hope you enjoyed, still no beta, I know I should have had someone edit this but I finished it at 4 am and I wanted to get it up online, I didnt want to wait to send it to a friend so once again self edited. In true Lady Gaga style, I love all my little monsters (you!) so please REVIEW OR I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN, DONT DOUBT ME I'M PRETTY GOOD AT THAT HUNTING GAME THAT JO WAS PLAYING IN ONE OF THE EPISODES (I forget which one)! I could shoot you, ya know. :D

xoxo November Envy


	3. The Same Side once upon a time

Seeing as each chapter seems ti be named after a song and qoutes one I thought it'd be silly to stop now:

'_Once upon a time somebody ran _

_Somebody ran away saying 'fast as I can I got to go, I got to go_

_'Once upon a time we fell apart _

_You're holding in your hands the two halves of my heart Oh oh oh, oh-oh-oh-oh__  
__Once upon a time we burned bright _

_Now all we ever seem to do is fight __on and on, and on and on and on _

_Once upon a time on the same side _

_Once upon a time on the same side in the same game _

_Now why d'you have to go? Have to go and throw water on my flame?__  
__Could have been a princess, you'd be a king _

_Could have had a castle and worn a ring _

_But no o-o-o-oh you let me go o-o-o-oh-oh I could have been a princess, you'd be a king _

_Could have had a castle and worn a ring But no-o-o-o-oh you let me go-o-o-o-oh _

_You stole my star La-la-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la,_

_You stole my star La-la-la-la-la-la-la __  
__'Cos you really hurt me, no you really hurt me_

_'Cos you really hurt me, no you really hurt me _

_'Cos you really hurt me, oh-oh you really hurt me, Oh-ooh-ooh '_

_Cos you really hurt me, oh-oh you really hurt me'_

Princess of China

Coldplay ft. Rihanna

* * *

_Sam was being pressed down into the motel mattress beneath him, his brother was atop him, keeping Sam down with all his weight. Dean was straddling him, kissing every inch of Sam's skin, peppering opened mouthed kisses here and there, taking his sweet time to torture Sam thoroughly. Sam groaned as his nipple was encircled by Dean's hot mouth and encouraged into hardness by hid talented tongue. Sam tried to attach his hands to Dean's short hair but he was swatted away by his demanding brother._

"_Dean," He whimpered. "Please,"_

_Dean released Sam's over simulated nipple with a wet pop._

"_Please what?" Dean smiled seductively._

"_Need you." Sam insisted, eyes heavy with lust, desire evident on his face._

"_Yeah?" Dean asked huskily, ducking his head to suck at Sam's ear. "Tell me, Sammy." Sam groaned again and bucked his hips at the sound of his brothers thick gravely voice, so fucking perfect._

'_Fuck me." Sam hissed, a blush crawling up his high cheek bones._

"_Beg me." Dean replied, kissing the tip of Sam's nose teasingly. _

"_Please, jerk. Fuckin' please!"_

_Dean threw him a cheeky grin before he dived in for a heated kiss, his tongue doing amazing things to Sam's making Sam's blood simmer in ecstasy. Sam wrapped his long legs around Dean's waist and drew him closer, clinging to him as tightly as he could. Dean broke the kiss as the both took in gasps of air._

"_I love you, baby boy." Dean whispered like a hymn into Sam's ear as he panted. _

"_God, love you too, De," Sam replied, pulling Dean's lips back too his and devouring his brother's mouth hungrily._

"Sam! Wake up kid!"

Sam shot up in his bed, instinctively searching for his blade.

"Sammy, man, I thought you where having an aneurism or something."

"Dean?" Sam stuttered, staring into his brothers moss green eyes.

"Who where you expecting? Megan Fox?"

"I-" Sam blinked, glanced down and realised he was as hard as rock, the blankets tenting.

Dean followed Sam's gazed down. For a moment his face seemed to harden, but too soon the rigidness was replaced by an underling mirth and Sam wasn't sure if the rigidness had even been their in the first place.

"Maybe you were!" Dean laughed loudly. "Pleasant dreams, Sam?" Sam flushed red all over and ducked his head avoiding Dean's knowing eyes.

"Shut up." He muttered as he pulled the blankets around himself tighter.

"Ah Sammy, nothing to be ashamed of, or do we have to have 'the talk'?"

Sam shook his head frantically.

"Never again," Sam muttered remembering 'the talk' Dad had gave him, soon followed a few days later by 'the talk' Dean delivered. Dean chuckled at him before shoving a hot Styrofoam cup into Sam's hand.

"I got coffee." Dean said with a wink.

"I can see that." Sam monotones.

"Thank you Dean, so considerate, Dean. What an amazing brother you are Dean, how could I ever repay you Dean-"  
"Shut up, Dean." Sam offered instead.

"A million thank yous Dean, may I do all your laundry for the week Dean." Dean continued on; paying no attention to Sam as he walked back to the kitchenette and his steaming hotcakes. "Let me offer to wash the Impala, Dean, no I insist."

"You _really_ like the sound of your own voice, don't you?" Sam sighed, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

"What was that? I love you Dean? Oh Sammy, no need, I already know."

"Why were you born?" Sam moaned, trying to disregard his erection.

"Are you sure you don't need to hear 'the birds and the bees' again?"

"Not from you."

"Maybe an educational video?"

"Aghh!" Sam yelled, slamming his head into his pillow and wishing the world would dissolve around him, taking his nuisance of a brother with it.

The cold shower had worked wonders for Sam. Crazy as it sounds, it had invigorated him, he felt better and Dean's annoying voice didn't sound so agonisingly sexual now that Sam stopped sporting wood. He sighed thankfully as he drank from his cold coffee. He didn't even care that his coffee wasn't hot anymore; he was just to glad to be free from the influence of his latest dream. He'd been having them regularly, he had dreams like that for as long as he could remember but now he was experiencing them more than normal, it was becoming frequent. Ever since a few weeks ago, that morning he woke up hangover as shit, the dreams had started coming more often and more… involved, intense. He really didn't know how much longer he could stand it. Before he had just pushed his attraction for Dean to the back of his mind, hiding it behind all the other crap that fogged and clouded up his brain. It was suppressible then, but now it was almost tangible, he needed to feel Dean like he needed food or oxygen. Each day he went without Dean's touch the tortuous feeling of pure untamed need amped up inside of him just a little more and a little more, until it was plain unbearable. Sam looked worse for ware too. There where black little bags forming under his eyes and his skin was losing its normal sun-kissed honey colour, even Dean had noticed, commenting that Sam looked like Death warmed over one morning. He needed away out, not that he didn't love the dreams. He bloody _relished_ them, they where the only time when his needs where actually meet. But he just didn't have the energy left to deal with them anymore. He felt something wet roll down his check, great, was he crying? Sam grunted unhappily and swatted at it angrily. He wasn't a pansy; there was really no reason to cry over this.

"Hey, you alright?" Dean asked as he spotted Sam's face from across the room where he was channel surfing the extremely boring cable T.V.

"I'm fine." Sam reply, turning away from Dean.

"If you say so," Dean shrugged and went back to the television.

Sam sniffed quietly as he tried to take no notice of his brother's nonchalant attitude, He shouldn't take it personally, god knows Dean's been like that for longer than Sam cared to remember, but today it stang more than usual, dug in just a little deeper. He heard Dean sigh irritably behind him.

"What is it?" Dean voice called out.

"Nothing!" Sam insisted again.

"Yeah, whatever you say weeping willow. Come on, what is it?"

"Just leave me alone, alright?" Sam whined.

"Sam, you sound like your fifteen again." Dean said, standing up and making his way over to his brother. Sam relaxed slightly as he felt the weight of Dean's hand resting on his shoulder.

"You're the one who always wants to talk," Dean reminded him, "so talk."

"Dean, please, just don't. Leave it, alright?"

"Are we really gonna play this game?"

"You're not helping right now!" Sam accused, his watery eyes delivering a glare of warning for Dean to back off.

"Good, I never said I was here to help, I'm here to listen."

Sam rolled his tear-reddened eyes. "That sounds like such a lie coming from you."

"Maybe so, but I'm telling the truth, kiddo. So tell me."

"No."

"Is it the apocalypse, because I told you a million times it's not your-"  
"No."

"Then what?" Dean asked, slowly starting to lose his temper, the frustration becoming evident in his voice.

"Just don't." Sam repeated like a broken down record. Dean removed his hand from Sam shoulder.

"So when you want to talk about something its mandatory but when I want to it's a no go?"

"No, Dean, I just really don't want to talk about _this_, ok?"

"No, not ok." Dean growled, snatching his keys up form the table. "I'm going to a bar. Be back." Dean said aloofly as if he where addressing the room instead of Sam.

"Dean-" Sam pleaded but it was too late, Dean was already out the door.

Dean slammed the Impala door shut, hard, instantly regretting it.

"I'm sorry baby," He muttered to the car, he hadn't meant to take his anger out on her. He glanced around the empty parking lot. Really it was far too early to start drinking and he seemed to be the only one around in miles of the small pub he had found. The place was obviously a dive. It was practically falling apart from the seams, the paint peeling and flaking down onto the ground below, the tin roof rusting with age and little maintenance and the windows where so dirty not even a glimpse of a reflection could be seen in them. But it was the only place open at this time of day that was serving the good stuff, and honestly, Dean had seen much worse, so he shrugged to himself and made a beeline for the door. When he entered the soothing sound of old country music met his ears. There was a ragged older gentleman sitting at a round wooden table, he was slumped almost face first into his beer and snoozing lightly. Dean could tell he was the bar regular, he could practically smell the alcohol on him from the other side of the room. Dean felt a zap of pity for the guy but it passed quickly as he reminded himself that guy was drunk and he was not and instantly the pity was replaced by envy. Dean made for the counter; his footsteps making the old wooden floor bored creak and groan under his weight. A pretty, young thing was manning the bar, cleaning glasses and chewing some bubble gum as she went, every now and them stopping to blow a bubble or hum. As Dean approached closer he noticed she was humming a familiar tune, it was 'Hey Jude". Dean sighed, just his luck, he couldn't escape reminders of his dump of a life even in a bar.

"Nice song," Dean commented as he took a seat, startling the girl.

"Oh, hi." She smiled, raising her head to display her big brown eyes.

"Yeah, it is. I sing it to my godson to put him to sleep."

Dean smiled. "My mom used to do the same."

"We'll, your momma and me must have a lot in common."

"Maybe," Dean said diverting his eyes.

"So, what brings you in this time of the morn'?" She asked kindly.

"The normal,"

"Uh," She nodded. "Family or love?"

Dean glanced up at her. "Both."

"Double whammy."

"You could say." Dean agreed.

"So, what you after?" She offered, gesturing to the shelves of alcohol.

"The strongest poison you got."

"Hold up there partner. It eleven o'clock in the morn' don't cha think that's a little heavy on?"

"It's one AM somewhere." Dean replied stubbornly, sending her his best mischievous grin.

"Well that's the spirit. My papa always told me 'waste not, want not'." And with that and a rather cheeky smile she retrieved the oldest looking, most dust ridden bottle of whiskey from the top of the shelving.

"Just a heads up, this is what Virgo over there drinks." She said, nodding her head in the direction of the slumped patron.

"Virgo? Isn't that some kind of motion sickness?"

She shrugged her black hair sifting gracefully about her shoulders. "I don't know. I think his momma was a hippy. It'd explain a lot."

Dean chucked and picked up the small shot glass she'd poured.

"First ones on the house, stranger." She winked and fetched another glass before Dean had even finished downing the first one, filling the new one to the brim and nudging it toward Dean.

"You know what a man wants." Dean winked back and downed the next one, the amber brown liquid burning a path down his chest before settling to become a warm simmer.

"You could say so," she giggled. "I'm Elisha, by the way."

"Dean." Dean replied. "Got anymore of that stuff?" He asked, pointing to the bottle. Elisha raised her smooth brown eyebrows. "You bet you last penny I do." She scoffed as she poured yet another.

"So," she said easily as she passed the next shot to Dean. "are we gonna do the whole spill our guts thing where you ask me how a pretty girl ends up working in this dump and I say 'circumstance' and then ask you what brings you in and you say 'it's a long story', and then I say 'well honey lucky I've got a long time' thing?"

"Are you normally this blunt?" Dean asked, frowning at her.

"Blunter." She replied with a shrug. "But for you darlin' I touched it up a little."

"I really don't think you could be any blunter." Dean told her as he accepted yet another drink.

"Oh sweetie, don't try me." She chuckled as she whipped down the bar with a wet cloth. "This job has turned me into a bitter old prude."

"Well you sure don't look like one," Dean said suggestively wagging his eyebrows and eyeing off the V of her neckline.

"Honey, God gave me eyes for a reason, as he did you, and I assure you they weren't for gaping at my breasts."

"Wow," Dean started to slurred. "You weren't lying; you can get blunter. How do you keep any customers?"

"Well," She started, "This place isn't exactly full now is it." Dean couldn't help but agree.

"So let's go, what the nitty gritty details of what brings you in."

"You don't want to know." Dean warned, glancing down into his empty shot glass with a wistful expression.

"Try me." Elisha insisted, a calming smile wishing over her pretty face. And suddenly Dean felt like he wanted to tell her everything.

"I'm in love, " He shrugged.

"So ya said, cowboy." Elisha reminded him. "Ya also said the family was driving you up the wall. What? Momma don't like your latest trick to much?"

"You know, I'm sure if she knew she'd have a real problem with it, actually."

"Oh, been keeping secrets, Dean?"

"No." Dean shook his head. "I don't have a mom, she passed away."

"I'm real sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to-"  
"No, its cool." Dean assured her. "You not the first and you won't be the last."

Elisha nodded solemnly

"Then what's up with the family?" She asked softly.

"That's just the problem." Dean sighed.

"What is?"

"I'm in love with someone."

Elisha frowned. "Yeah you said." Then realisation drowned on her face. "Oh." She said in a small whisper.

"Yeah, oh." Dean muttered.

"Well," She said, diverting her eyes from Dean and flipping a piece of hair behind her ear. "I've heard of worse."

"Really?" Dean asked, highly doubting it.

"Yeah, I've heard a lot, it happens when your a bar tend. Listen, Dean, you're no rapist or murderer. Those things are appalling, but loving someone a little more that you should? Yeah, I mean it's wrong but it's not the end all is it. It's just something you gotta deal with. "

Dean glanced up at her. "Your unconfutable right now, aren't you."

"Look, I mean, it's not something I woke up today and said to myself 'I'm going to go to work and hang out for some good insect stories', but I meant what I said. You're a good person still."

"I'd hunt me down and kill me if I where anyone else." Dean said. "I'm a monster."

"Right, well you keep telling yourself that, it's going to get you nowhere fast. I'm telling you now; it's not picture perfect but its love. And that's something to cherish, no matter the situation."

"If only it where that easy."

"It could be, if you wanted it to be." Elisha said.

"How?"

Elisha smiled that sweet, soft smile of hers. "You tell them."

"What! Hells no, are you crazy, just waltz in and say 'hey little brother, nice morning isn't it? By the way I think I love you, want to spend the rest of today rolling around in-between the sheets?"

"Why not?" Elisha grinned.

"Eh, I'd get punched in the face, that's why, and I'd lose him, forever."

"Yeah, most likely. But at least you'd be free, you'd have said all there is to say and you wouldn't be here, drowning your sorrows. Leave it up to him, he most likely will be disgusted and leave you, but what if he isn't? Think of what you could have!"

"I can't." Dean said, shaking his head.

"Alright-y." She sighed, sounding defeated. With one last apologetic glance she went back to her work.

Sam lay in the bath, staring absently at the ceiling. He felt numb, empty. After Dean had left Sam had done the only thing he could, cried like a girl until there was nothing left in him, noting at all. Then he collapsed on the floor, trying to blend into the carpet. He couldn't help but notice just how pitiful he'd become, if there had been balloons around he would of called it a self pity party. He was a hunter for Christ's sake, he was meant to be beyond this and he sure as hell wasn't meant to be craving his brother like this. He was an adult, goddamn it. Not a blubbering newborn. He sunk deeper into the warm water at the embarrassing comparison. Blowing out his breath he silently wished Dean had never made his crossroads deal. Then Sam could just be gone, dead, in heaven, he supposed, seeing as that was before all his hell damning demonic crap. He could be happy and Dean would be safe away from the prying hands of his little brother's sick mind. There was nothing more Sam wanted right now than to not be here, not be facing this dilemma, it was killing him slowly, like the plague. Eating at him from the inside out. Collapsing his lungs, making it impossible to breath for the pain. Christ he sounded emo teenager battling puberty, even to himself. Dean was right, he was such a bitch. Sam jumped as he heard the door open and someone, his brother, stumbled in.

"Sam!" His drunken voice shouted. "Where are ya!" Sam leapt out of the bath and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist tightly. He opened the door of the bathroom to reveal Dean's drunken form.

"Sam!" he shouted again as his eyes landed on Sam. "Found ya!" Dean smiled, chucking his keys across the room probably aiming for the table but instead landing them in the sink with a loud metallic clank that made Sam cringe.

"You sure did." Sam offered in a monotone.

"Cheer up Sammy boy." Dean said, a pout coming over his face.

"You're drunk," Sam stated.

"I know, isn't it great?" Dean slurred excitedly.

"God! What have you been drinking, I can smell it from here."

"Whisky Sammy! Cheap, crappy, old whisky."

"Oh," Sam offered when Dean looked at him wide eye and expediently. Dean cocked his head to the side and stared at Sam as if he'd only just noticed something.

"You're not wearing a shirt?"

"Yeah, thanks for the update, Captain Obvious."

"You're welcome Lieutenant Sarcastic."

"God, please tell me you didn't drive back like this." Sam said shaking his head.

"You're grumpy."

"You think!" Sam snapped. "You just take off like that and then rock up two hours later drunk of your rocket. It's not even three yet Dean, you should be sober!"

"Pfft! It one A.M-"

"Somewhere. Yeah, heard that one before, great excuse Dean."

"Sammy!" Dean whined. "Do we have to fight; it's all we do lately."

"Wow!" Sam bit back. "I wonder why, maybe because every five minutes you pull something like this instead of trying to stop the end of the world with me?"

"You make me sound like the bad one; I wasn't the one wolfing down bitch blood!"

Dean face went slack for a second as his drunken mind realised what he'd just said. He slapped a hand over his mouth as if he could cram the hurtful words back in. Sam just stood shocked, his hands quivering.

"What?" Sam whisper, the danger laced in the undertones of his voice. "Did you say?"

"I-" Dean started, but couldn't find the words, he swallowed tightly around the lump in his throat.

"Sam, I didn't mean it! I promise."

"It just slipped out." Sam offered the rage evident in his voice. Dean flung his open palm out in front of him.

"Yes!" He cried. "Yes! It slipped out. I did-"  
"SHUT UP!" Sam roared, picking up the nearest object, a book by the feel of it, and flinging it with all his might at Dean's head. Dean dodged it like a pro, even in his drunken state. The resulting _thud _of the book hitting the wall behind Dean stilled hem both into a deadly silence.

"Sam-" Dean whispered in disbelief.

"Shit!" Sam hissed, gripping his head and digging his fingertips into his skull, tears bubbling up all over again.  
"I didn't mean to, shit, I'm sorry Dean."

"It just slipped?" Dean suggested, still wide eyed with astonishment.

"Dean," Sam tried to find the words to apologise.

"It's ok." Dean said, eyeing the offending book on the ground. "We're even."

Sam staggered forward, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

"I don't know what got into me." Sam hissed into his hands. Dean frowned at his brother's topless, slumped form. Slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal he came to stand next to Sam, carefully he knelt down so that he could stare up into Sam's face which was covered by his hands. Gingerly Dean removed Sam's hands from his face so that he could met Sam's hazel eyes with his own slightly booze heavy irises.

"It alright Sam, its ok. I forgive you. You missed coz you got a girls arm. I'm ok."

"I'm going insane," Sam groaned. "I'm losing it."

"Hey. Sam." Dean slurred drunkenly, gripping Sam's cheeks with his hands, rubbing his thumbs over his high cheek bones.

"Hey, Sammy. It alright. We're alright."

"Are we? Really Dean, when was the last time we where 'alright'?"

"Sammy," Dean begged. "Don't do this to yourself."

"Why not?" Sam sobbed like a loony. "I'm already so far down the rabbit hole; I might of well stay for tea with the mad hatter! God, you drive me insane, you know that? You send me up the walls, so why can't I just fucking quit you?"

"I don't know, Sammy." Dean sighed and pulled his brother in for a tight hug, letting Sam sob against his shoulder, soaking his top with his tears.

"I just don't know, baby boy." Dean whispered kissing the top of Sam's head.

* * *

Well, that's chapter three. Clap, clap. So glad it's done! Alright, reference time. Elisha's line "My papa always told me 'waist not, want not'" That is courtesy of my Dad, that was something I heard all though my childhood and he even said it last night at his birthday party, so thank you Papa, and happy birthday! And Sam's 'Why can't I quit you?" Isn't word for word but I did nick it off of Brokeback Mountain, I'm sure some people probably picked up on that. That line makes the movie so I couldn't steal it without a least refencing them. Hope you all enjoyed, special thanks to my friend, she knows who she is, who edited this fic when I was far to tired to and also suporrted me through these last two chapters.

xoxo

November Envy


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